


Fantasy

by writteninblood



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Blood, Coming Untouched, Dom/sub Undertones, Episode: s02e09 A Bitter Pill to Swallow, Episode: s03e05 Anything for You, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Murder Husbands, Murder Kink, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Male Character, RIP Mr Leonard, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-24
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-09-01 22:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8640961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writteninblood/pseuds/writteninblood
Summary: After Ed doesn't get the reaction he wants from telling Oswald he would do anything for him, he can't sleep. So he relives his favourite memory.





	

Edward Nygma takes great pride in his ability to read people. So when he takes the plunge and tells Oswald he would do anything for him, that he can always be counted on, it’s a little disappointing to not obtain the reaction he had hoped for. Ed knows Oswald thrives on affection, knows there is a void in his life after the deaths of both his parents. He thinks it’s almost like a drug for Oswald, being shown any kind of love or loyalty. He had thought that if he proved himself, even literally put his life on the line for Oswald, there might be a small chance Oswald would return his feelings. That if he built a connection, perhaps an attraction might form. He thought he had done all this, and that his moment had arrived, and maybe, just maybe, he would have a second chance at love.

It’s only a little disappointing, really, because Edward knows someone as important and powerful as Oswald Cobblepot is never likely to look at him in a way other than as someone who runs his administration, someone there to bolster his political power over Gotham. Why would Oswald ever see him as anything else? Some of his own behaviour towards Oswald in the past has been despicable. Edward can’t think about it without immense shame. But he is trying, now, to make amends. To show Oswald how grateful he is that he saved him from sleepless nights in Arkham listening to the screams of the insane. How much it means to him that Oswald made his home Ed’s home too, without a second thought. How he’s come to fall completely head over heels in love with Oswald Cobblepot. _You. Are. An. Idiot!_ his mind helpfully supplies.

After Oswald pulls away from Ed and they both awkwardly look downwards and clear their throats, they bid each other goodnight. Ed needs to remove himself from this situation and re-evaluate things, ask himself why, exactly, he allowed himself to believe in something so illogical. He pulls Oswald’s bathrobe tighter around himself as he gets up to leave the room. He casts one last glance back at Oswald who has a thumb against his lip and is staring intensenly into the flames. Ed thinks about how the fire illuminates Oswald’s already bright eyes. _Simply magnificent_ is his last thought, before heading upstairs to his bedroom. 

He is exhausted, after the both physically and mentally trying day he’s had. But he’s still wired. As he sits down on the bed, he fluffs up the pillows behind him and leans back, wincing slightly at the pain in his neck. His throat feels like it’s on fire. But these things mean nothing to him. He thinks about Oswald’s face as he essentially confessed that he was his, that he would always be there for him. How for a couple of tantalising moments, it had seemed like Oswald was about to kiss him. But of course, it was always going to be a hug. 

He closes his eyes and he can still feel Oswald tightening his grip on his shoulder. How his hand ran across his shoulder blades as if he couldn’t believe that Ed was real. He thinks about how Oswald’s cheek felt against the crook of his neck. He imagines how it might have felt if when Oswald had leaned back, if he’d kept his face close, and then kissed him. An overload of sensations, the taste of champagne, the smell of Oswald’s expensive cologne. Ed would have grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket as he deepened the kiss, no longer able to hold back his desire. 

He’s definitely too wired to sleep at this point, and now desperately needs to get off. Ed takes off his glasses and sets them on the dresser before settling back deeper into the pillows. He opens the bathrobe, which still smells like Oswald, and pulls down his pajama pants. He wraps a hand around himself, sighing in relief, and closing his eyes, goes to his favourite fantasy. It’s his favourite because it actually happened, and remains the most euphoric experience of his life.

\---

‘My mother always said a party’s not a party without entertainment.’ Oswald grins devilishly as Ed pulls Mr. Leonard once more from the closet. Ed’s blood is humming with excitement. He hands Oswald the knife again, who takes it with a knowing smirk.

‘Will that knife do? I have others...’

‘This will do just fine, friend.’ Oswald cuts him off before turning his attention to Mr. Leonard. He’s wearing a look of intense concentration now, and Ed can barely withstand the anticipation of knowing what he’s about to witness. He steps back to give Oswald room to work.

To Ed’s surprise, the first thing Oswald does is crouch down to start cutting the clothes from Mr. Leonard’s body. The precision with which he works is truly magnificent, and Ed takes a deep breath. It would not do to get _too_ excited.

‘Before the real party begins, I’m going to have a little fun.’ Oswald’s voice jolts Ed from his fascination with watching the way the bones of Oswald’s hand move around the knife as he cuts through the last piece of fabric. He leaves Mr. Leonard naked from the waist up. His cries of ‘help me’ can clearly be understood, despite being muffled by his gag and the sack on top of his head. Oswald just laughs. 

‘No one is going to help you. You are misfortunate enough to have the Penguin as your enemy. There’s only one way this is going to end. But first! First, a gift, for my fine friend here.’ 

Oswald stands up again, and arranges one of Mr Leonard’s wrists so that it’s facing up. He lowers the knife and begins to drag it in long swift lines along the soft smooth skin of his forearm. The knife is remarkably sharp, and blood runs down to drip off the chair and onto the floor. 

From where Ed is standing, he can’t see what Oswald is doing, and is unsure whether it would be okay to approach so he can observe better. He doesn’t want to crowd Oswald, or overstep his bounds, or ruin his concentration. He hovers awkwardly behind him, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet, as Mr Leonard’s muffled screams fill the silence. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Oswald turns around and says, ‘what are you doing over there? Come here so you can see properly!’

Ed, unable to hold back a grin, moves forward eagerly and stands next to Oswald, who gestures down at Mr Leonard’s bloody arm. When he sees what Oswald had done, his mouth goes dry and his heart starts going into overdrive.

_NYGMA_

The letters are written in deep gashes with the blood still flowing from them, and all the blood in Ed’s own body rushes south so fast he thinks he might pass out. 

‘Do you like it?’ 

‘ _Oswald_ ,’ he exclaims reverently, ‘it’s beautiful.’ Ed makes a mental note to take a polaroid of this later, when Oswald has gone to sleep. It’s something he wants to capture forever.

‘Oh, I’m so pleased you like it! A token of our new friendship.’ Oswald smiles proudly up at Ed, who can only beam back at him. Mr Leonard’s pleas for mercy are just background noise. 

‘Now you sit here, so you can see everything. It is about to get very bloody in here.’

Mr Leonard’s pleading, which had died down slightly, starts up again at this revelation. Ed drags over a chair and sits by Mr Leonard’s side. 

‘The fairest thing to do would be to kill you outright,’ Oswald says, teasing the knife over Mr Leonard’s throat. Ed tries to stop himself from looking visibly disappointed at the idea of it being over so quickly.

‘But since I have no Galavan, and you are the only one upon whom I may currently reek my vengeance, I am going to make this long and extraordinarily painful.’ Oswald punctuates this statement with a long gash diagonally across Mr Leonard’s chest. He cries out and struggles against his restraints. Ed bites his lip and wets it with his tongue as he watches the blood start to flow. He glances at Oswald who is has his head tilted away from him and is wiping the knife on his own cheek. Ed takes a shuddering breath and clenches his fists. He thinks it will be a miracle if this whole experience doesn’t kill him like it will certainly kill Mr Leonard. 

Over the next few hours, the floor becomes soaked in blood. The sack is removed as the need to keep Mr Leonard conscious for everything becomes paramount. He does however stay blindfolded and gagged. He is quite a young man and Ed finds it remarkable that his body seems to still be fighting for life. Most would have given up by now. 

Ed isn’t sure when he moved his chair behind Mr Leonard and started watching Oswald instead of the damage being wrought on Mr Leonard’s body. Oswald himself is drenched in blood and not showing any signs of tiring. His eyes are ablaze with the satisfaction this revenge is bringing him. He is utterly lost to the task at hand. Ed is painfully hard and teetering on the edge, having to take calming breaths to stave off orgasm. Watching Oswald take his time over this is like watching a master of his art, and for Ed it is the most powerful aphrodisiac. Ed’s giggles, he hopes, somewhat cover the real type of enjoyment he is getting out of this. He has been white knuckling the sides of Mr Leonard’s chair for quite some time now. 

Oswald is in the middle of breaking one of Mr Leonard’s fingers when Ed notices something is wrong. Mr Leonard has stopped screaming and is simply shaking as though he’s being electrocuted. He lays a hand over Mr Leonard’s heart and realises he’s gone into cardiac arrest. His body is _finally_ giving up. Ed slides his other hand down to the wrist with his name on. He wants to feel the life leave Mr Leonard’s body, knowing that it was Oswald’s hand who brought him to this point. Oswald looks up at him and raises a curious eyebrow.

‘Oswald, he’s having a heart attack.’ 

Ed isn’t sure how he expects Oswald to react to this information but it isn’t with the pure fury he sees. Oswald looks at Mr Leonard, whose eyes are already losing focus.

‘You think after all this, I am simply going to let your weakness deprive me of the joy of killing you?’

He raises the knife, and quick as a bolt of lightning, slices Mr Leonard’s throat. The blood splatters Ed across the face, droplets spraying across his glasses. Mr Leonard gives one last weak struggle against his restraints and Ed feels it under his hands. And then it’s all over. Ed is so close, so close, and he doesn’t know how to come back from this close to the edge. He looks away from the scene directly in front of him, but then he catches sight of it in the mirror on the opposite wall through his blood stained glasses. He sees himself; his hair has come loose, blood has soaked through his clothes and has marked his face in a diagonal line. But it’s Oswald that does it. His lips are pressed together in a grim smile as he looks down at his bloody hands. It looks to Ed as though he’s completed the process of coming back to himself. _He_ did that. It’s a truly beautiful and peaceful moment. He gave Oswald Mr Leonard, _he_ restored the Penguin to himself. The power in that is too much. He looks down at Mr Leonard’s limp form and drops his forehead to his shoulder, hoping to hide his reaction as he finally falls over the edge.

All thoughts of hiding this from Oswald are abandoned as he experiences the most intense orgasm of his life. His hands move to grip the chair once again as he comes so hard he almost blacks out. He distantly hears himself letting out a long, loud moan that may be closer to a scream. Nothing in his life has ever felt like this. He feels euphoric. He feels free.

When he comes down and finally catches his breath, he’s scared to look up and face the inevitable look of disgust that waits for him. It’s gone very quiet in the room. Steeling himself, he eventually looks up. 

Oswald is staring at him thoughtfully, and he smiles when Ed’s eyes meet his. 

‘Thank you for the gift.’ He says, simply. He turns the knife around and holds it out to Ed, who reaches out a shaky hand to take it. He’s unsure how to proceed, and nervously pushes his glasses up his nose. 

‘Would you like to shower first, or should I?’ Oswald asks. 

Ed blinks at the normality of Oswald’s tone and demeanour. Could it be that Oswald is okay with what just happened?

‘You can go. I uh. I... Oswald. I...’

Oswald walks over to him and silences him with a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes it before making his way to the bathroom. 

Relief floods through Ed. They are okay. Oswald isn’t sickened by him. He knows the darkest side of his personality, and he’s still here. He smiles so wide he thinks his face might break. For the only the second time in his life, Edward Nygma is truly happy.

\---

Ed tries to summon the energy to go to the bathroom. He really is tired in the extreme now, but he knows he needs to clean himself up before he finally goes to sleep. His throat feels even worse now, and he has a fit of dry coughing before he gets up.

Upon returning from the bathroom, he reaches into the top drawer of his dresser. Under a false bottom is where he keeps it – the polaroid of his name written in blood. He smooths a thumb lovingly over the arm in the photo, as if he could caress it. He smiles down at it before putting it back in its little hiding place. 

It hurts his heart that Oswald may never love him. But he has given him one thing which no one else ever has, his full and unconditional acceptance. And for that he will continue to do everything he can for the man who is his friend, his mayor and his everything.


End file.
